


Live Action Figure

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action Figures, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brother Feels, Childhood Memories, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dry Orgasm, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Frottage, Humor, Imaginary Friends, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Shameless Smut, Smut, Some Humor, Wish Fulfillment, coming to life, dolls coming to life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:59:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean was 12 he found a plastic action figure who soon became his imaginary best friend. Then Dean outgrew toys and imaginary confidants. </p><p>Now he's 26, living in a new house with his ever-unreliable father and trying to maintain a relationship with his brother who has gone off to college. </p><p>A moving company mix up has him discovering the contents of a box he hasn't seen in years. When he pulls to old plastic figure from the box, he has no idea the turn his life is about to take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is, really. It was described at one point like a smutty children's book.  
> Imagine _Indian in the Cupboard_ meets _Lars and the Real Girl_ maybe. Or possibly an NC-17 version of _Mannequin_ with hints of _Drop Dead Fred_.  
>  Basically, if your childhood imaginings mixed with your more grown up need for physical affection, this might be what happened: it's a doll coming to life and banging Dean's brains out, but with, like, angst and shit.  
> I have issues, is what I'm saying.  
> It's all finished and just lacks some editing, so it will be completely up within a few days.

_14 years ago_

When Dean was 12 and Sammy was 8, John had just moved them into their motel of the week. Like always, it was Dean’s job to put their stuff away and make sure Sammy didn’t get into anything dangerous. Dean wasn’t 100% sure what John did during this time, but since he usually came back smelling like booze, Dean guessed a bar was probably part of equation.

When Dean was putting away Sammy’s flannel shirts, he spotted something way back in the drawer. When he pulled it out, he saw it was a plastic action figure, about 4-5 inches tall. He wore a crooked tie and a trenchcoat made to look like it was blowing in the wind. His eyes were electric blue, like they were meant to look as if they were lit up.

Dean had never seen the guy before. He watched a lot of tv, so he was pretty sure it wasn’t a character from a show. He hadn’t seen him in any movie trailers he’d watched, either. He thought maybe the guy must be from comics or something. He was a really cool looking figure, anyway.

He ran his thumb over the face. Something about holding the small figure in his hand relaxed him. He felt calmer and he couldn’t really say why. He acknowledged, though, that Sammy was the kid. Dean was really too old for dolls, anyway. He took it over to their bed, where Sammy was piled up with a stack of books.

“Look what I found in the drawer, Sammy.” He held it out to his little brother for inspection.

“Wow, cool, Dean! Lemme see,” he said, sticky fingers taking the plastic man from Dean’s grasp. He turned him over and did a thorough investigation of him from all sides. “Man, thass really cool.” He handed it back to Dean.

“Nah, Sammy, you can have it. It’s yours.”

“No, Dean, you keep it. You need it more’n me. Coz I got you, but you don’t got anybody. Sides, you already gave me the cereal prize. S’your turn.” He went back to reading his book.

“Thanks, Sammy. You sure?”

Sammy nodded and Dean ruffled his head and gave him a half-hug, half-shake. Then he took the plastic figure and walked over to sit on the foot of what would be their father’s bed, if he showed up tonight. He stroked over the figure with his thumb again, this time over the chest. He examined the tiny man, taking in his dark suit this time and his unkempt hair.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean called back over his shoulder. “You ever seen this guy before? Like in a movie trailer or anything?”

“Nope. But his foot says his name is Cast-ee-ell.”

“Oh, yeah?” He turned the man upside down to read his feet. He smiled back over his shoulder at Sammy, who was paying him no attention.

What the guy’s feet actually said was said “Cast in East London”, in letters that were engraved and then painted. Most of the lettering paint had faded, though, until the painted letters read “Cast i E L”. Dean decided it was as good a name as any. Although…

“I think I’ll just call him Cas,” he told his brother, who still wasn’t listening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

One night later that week, when John Winchester had left midday and not returned by nightfall again and Sammy had long since fallen asleep, Dean lay awake in the weird semi-dark of the motel room. He’d heard a lot of noise outside and he was a little bit scared. Not a lot scared - because his dad had taught him how to use a gun and he knew the gun was right next to him in the bedside drawer, if he needed it.

But even so, he was a little bit scared. Because he didn’t want to shoot anybody. He didn’t want Sammy to wake up and be scared. He wanted his dad to be here, big and strong and protecting. But he wasn’t here. Had only _been_ here two out of the six days since they had checked in.

Needing something to occupy his mind, Dean grabbed the action figure from the night stand. He rubbed his thumb over the smooth, cool plastic. It was soothing and he found himself breathing easier almost instantly.

“So, Cas, you’ve got my back, right?” He made the figure nod forward once, briskly. “If we’re quiet, I think we’ll be safe, right?” He tilted the figure into another nod. “I don’t like it here without Dad, Cas. I’m still just a kid, you know? But he leaves us alone a lot and I gotta be brave for Sammy. I gotta be the grown up. It’s hard sometimes.”

He sat there on the bed, gripping the figure in his palm and absently brushing the pad of his thumb against it in long, slow arcs. He kept talking to Cas, the plastic man in the plastic trench coat. He told him about their lives. How their mom had died and they’d ended up living on the road, constantly moving from one motel to another.

Every so often, during his tales, he would pretend Cas was answering him. Sometimes Cas told him it was gonna be ok and just offered comfort. Other times, Cas gave him wisdom and advice. Mostly, Cas just lay in his hand and met his need for touch, the plastic warming in his hand until it was almost like having a real person to hold onto.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few years, Cas became his best friend. He was his security blanket and his confidant, and he doubled as a lucky charm. Dean went nowhere without him. Dean still wasn’t sure what the guy was supposed to be. Generically dressed as he was in that suit, tie, and rumbled trench coat, he might be a secret agent or he might be some superhero’s alter ego. Like, tax accountant by day, crime fighter by night. Dean really didn’t care too much.

Whenever things were scary, or difficult for some other reason - and, really, things usually were either scary or just plain hard to deal with in the Winchester family - Dean went somewhere quiet and pulled Cas out of his pocket. They would have their one-sided conversations that somehow never seemed one-sided and Dean would feel better. He would usually have the answer to his problem when he was done.

He had instinctively hidden the toy from John since the very first. He knew how his father would react. The answer was badly. His father would react very badly to his teenaged son carrying what amounted to a doll in his pocket. Talking to it and stroking it, holding it like some kind of teddy bear or something. Dean didn’t have to actually see the sneer to know what it would look like - and feel like.

So he hid Cas. Sammy knew about the action figure in the beginning, but as he got older, Dean had made a point of doing his best to keep Cas’ continued existence a secret, even from his little brother. Sometimes life was like that. You had to keep things from people you loved because letting them see the real you would cause too many problems.

Dean knew to hide Cas from his father and brother just like he knew to keep his mouth shut when he first realized that he thought certain boys were as fun to look at as some girls. He didn’t tell John about that and he never had to see that sneer on his father’s face, or feel a sharp slap on his own. Sammy probably wouldn’t have cared about that, but Dean didn’t want to risk him saying anything to Dad accidentally, so he hid it from him, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Present day_

Dean started his unpacking. He vowed to himself that this was gonna be the last time he moved for at least a decade. He’d had enough of it. His stuff had gotten mixed up in the move and the boxes that had stayed in closets throughout the years somehow got into the important pile.

He didn’t really feel like putting away any of his stuff, so he thought he might go through the older boxes, instead. He might be able to get rid of some stuff or he might find something cool. He needed a nice distraction.

Ordinarily, the first night in a new house, he had Sam to share his misery, but his little brother was all the way in California now. This time, it was just him and Dad. And Dad wasn’t exactly good company at the best of times. Their first day in yet another new house was not the best of times.

He missed Sam like crazy already. The kid had only been gone a few days, but already it felt like forever. He wouldn’t even get to see him till maybe Thanksgiving. Even then, it wasn’t a sure thing. Money was tight, even with the kid’s scholarships. Plane tickets were not cheap.

Dean decided that a beer was in order before he started opening boxes. He considered calling Sam, but he decided to leave the kid be. The guy could use a break from all their family shit. It was why he went to Stanford in the first place, wasn’t it? Dean popped the top on his bottle and downed half before going back to his new room.

Dean opened the first box and found it was just a bunch of Sammy's school papers. The next box looked more promising, as it had some of his old tapes from high school on top. Then he saw it. Down underneath all the debris. His Castiel action figure.

"Yes! Hell yeah, heya Cas!" he said excitedly as he pulled the plastic man from the box. "How you been, man?" He ran his thumb over the faded front of the doll.

"Damn, I've missed you, dude! Sammy's gone off to Stanford, just like I always said he would. Awesome right?" He frowned. "Really lonely, though." He sat down on the bed, holding the figure in his cupped hand. "How about you? Box been treating you ok? Sorry about leaving you in there. I discovered girls, I guess. Well, boys, too. But you knew that."

Dean sighed and dropped down onto the bed heavily. "It's really good to see a friendly face, Cas. Even if you are four inches tall and made of plastic."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the doll off the dresser as he sat on the foot of his bed. His eyes flew to the doorknob to make sure it was locked, even though he knew he’d locked it when he came in. He always did. He always double-checked things, too. It was one of his few OCD behaviors that he didn’t try to work on. It had kept him from being locked out of the house plenty of times and kept him from burning the house down at least once.

“Heya, Cas,” he said to the plastic figure in his palm. “Pretty rough day today. Dad didn’t show up for work again, which isn’t anything new. He won’t be home tonight, is my guess.” He sighed and leaned back on his elbows, still cradling the doll gently in his right hand, thumb stroking over the chest and stomach. “Had a fight with Sam, too. We made up and everything, but it always leaves me feeling off. He’s so far away and I don’t want to lose him.”

He laughed bitterly and sat up again. “Pretty stupid to be talking to a doll, but you’re kind of all I’ve got at the moment.”

When he’d first found Cas again, he’d felt strange talking to the piece of plastic, even though it seemed to come as naturally as it had when he was a child. As the months wore on, though, it became less weird. It was easier at night, too, for some reason. Besides Sam, Cas had been the only other good thing about his childhood, so what was the harm in turning to an old friend? Even if that friend was imaginary.

Mostly, he just went with it and tried not to think about it at all. Whenever he did, he felt kind of pathetic for talking to a child’s toy. He felt pathetic enough already without getting that feeling from the one thing in his life that actually felt like it was helping him right now.

“You’re a good listener, at least. Kinda cute, too, in a plastic sorta way.” His laughter had real humor in it this time. “I wish you were a real boy, Pi-Cast-io.” He thought the action figure felt warmer in his hands, so he figured stress was sapping the heat from his extremities. Never a good sign. He set Cas on the bed and stood up.

“Be right back, Cas. We’re good buddies, but you still don’t get to come to the bathroom with me, you perv.” He smirked and walked out into the hallway and down to the tiny bathroom. He heard a small noise over the sound of liquid hitting liquid, but he couldn’t tell what it was. He hoped they didn’t have a rat problem. It was really the last thing he needed right now.

When he was done and washed up, including splashing some water on his face, he stepped back into his room. Cas was lying on the floor. Apparently he’d been too close to the edge of the bed and had fallen. Dean assumed that was the noise he heard from the bathroom. He locked the door again, then gently picked the action figure up and dusted him off.

“A good friend always picks you up when you’re down, Cas. You taught me that,” Dean told the action figure with a smile.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few nights later, Dean still hadn’t seen his father. Things with Sam were better, but there was still an awkwardness he didn’t know how to get rid of. He wanted to hug his brother, let him know they were cool, but that was impossible with the guy so far away. Instead, he was holding on to his Castiel doll again, letting its thumb-worn contours lull away his stress a little bit.

Grabbing the remote from in front of the tv, Dean set the doll on his pillow and started getting ready for bed. When he was down to his underwear, he crawled into bed, clutching Cas in his hand as he got comfortable and settled in for some mind-numbing tv. He couldn’t find much on until he finally stumbled on an old black and white with Cary Grant.

He looked down at the figure in his hand. “Don’t tell Sammy I watch Cary Grant movies,” he told the plastic man. Turning back to the screen, he said, “Oh, this is a good one! It’s not one of the more famous ones, but it’s one of my favorites.” He set Cas up on his shoulder so it was like they were watching together and so Dean could still talk to him.

“You look a little bit like Cary Grant, actually. Pretty sure he had brown eyes, though. Some people think he might have been gay - or at least bi like me. Either way, he was, like, the coolest guy, ever. One of the hottest, too. Cary knew how to wear a suit, that’s for sure.” Dean turned to the little plastic figure on his shoulder. “Thanks for not judging me, Cas. You’re the only one who knows I’m bi.”

Dean took in the worn paint of the chest, the mismatched irises on the blue eyes and felt disgusted with himself. Tossing the figure onto the bed, he dropped his head backward until it thunked against the headboard. “You’re fucking crazy, man. You’re talking to a fucking doll.” Then he heard John in his voice and realized he was letting his father rule his life, even though his father wasn’t around more than he ever had been and even though Dean was 26 years old.

“Sorry, Cas,” Dean said, picking the figure up off the bed and returning him to his shoulder. “You know how it is with me and Dad. Sometimes, I still try to be what he wants, even though I know I’m never gonna be able to be. But I need you, buddy. You’re all I got right now except Sammy and he’s all the way in California.”

He took Cas down from his shoulder and held him in his hand again, turned to face the tv. His thumb stroked up and down the doll’s back now, taking comfort in the smooth feel of the plastic, as well as the repetition.

When the Cary credits rolled, Dean flicked off the tv and rolled onto his side, facing the empty side of the bed. He still had Cas cradled in his hand. He turned the plastic man to face him again. He talked to Cas a little more about his week, about the argument with Sam - about Dad, of course - and started relaxing little by little as he got it all off his chest. He was half smiling as he started to drift off.

“You’re nice to have around, Cas. Too bad you can’t talk, though.” As he slid even further toward sleep, he whispered, “I really do wish you could be real, Cas. ‘s gettin’ kinda lonely here by myself…” He was asleep before the puff of air that formed the “f” was completely out of his mouth, bedside lamp still burning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up to find Cas is a lot bigger than he used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And smut it begins. Welcome to Weirdsville. Population: me.  
> Also, there will be angst.

Dean jerked awake suddenly in the dark. He didn’t know what had woken him, but he felt a warm body cradled against him and his first instinct was to snuggle into it. He rarely got the luxury of cuddling like this. He started to drift back to sleep, but tried to remember first who he’d gone home with. Then his brain supplied the true memories of the evening and he jerked back, more awake now, though his mind felt fuzzy.

He’d stayed home alone tonight. He had watched a Cary Grant movie with only a 4 inch doll for company. He pulled back and jerked again when the dim lamp light showed him the person sharing his bed. The man lying in front of him, practically in his arms, was Cas. Cas, the action figure. Only somehow life sized and alive. His sleepy and shocked brain was having trouble forming thoughts.

“Hello, Dean,” the man said, in voice deeper than anything Dean could have imagined. It sent shivers down his spine for more than one reason. Dean jumped at the sound.

Unable to think of anything more coherent, Dean asked, “What the hell, man? How are you freaking laying here with me right now?” He wanted to swear, but his automatic response was to censure his language in front of new people. “And-and-and _talking_ to me. Am I dreaming?”

“I believe you made some sort of wish for me to become real,” Cas replied, seemingly unfazed by his sudden alive status. He did stare at his flexing hand in the half light, but then he leveled the same narrowed eyed stare at Dean, so Dean wasn’t sure what it meant. “You also wished I could talk back.”

“So, but, I mean, you’re an actual person now?” He sat up a little. “I gotta make sure you’re fed and have a place to sleep?” Cas might be unfazed, but Dean was reeling. He tried to focus on the mundane aspects, so that he didn’t lose his shit over the fantastic.

“As I understand it,” Cas said, leaning closer while looking around the room, “For the time being I require neither sleep nor sustenance. That may change if this arrangement becomes...“ He leaned very close and leveled his eyes at Dean, causing that shiver again. “Permanent.” Cas reached out and took one of Dean's hands, placing it on his chest.

“What - “ Dean’s voice squeaked and he did his best to remove the frog from his throat. “What are you doing with my hand, Cas?”

“I have become accustomed to your touch whenever you are addressing me. You may stroke my face if you prefer, but I enjoy the contact very much. I think it will be even better in this new body.”

Dean thought he was going to be ok with that, until Cas started moving Dean’s hand up and down his chest, the way Dean’s thumb had stroked him. There was a big difference, however, between a hard plastic doll under one’s thumb and warm, tight abs under one’s palm. Dean was having a very problematic reaction to the new sensation. And what’s more, it was obvious that Cas was, too.

Cas’ eyes went wide and he dropped his head to look down at his crotch. “What’s happening to me?” He seemed more confused than scared, which was good.

“You’re, uh, reacting to my hand touching you in a way your body likes. It’s called a hardon, Cas. You’re, um...you’re getting a hardon.”

“What do I do about it?”

Now that Cas wasn’t paying attention and had loosened his grip, Dean dropped his hand. “You, uh, either wait for it to go away or, um…”

Dean couldn’t continue. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the growing bulge in Cas’ pants and thinking about the solo way he could take care of it - or all the ways that Dean could help him. Dean hadn’t been with anyone for a long time and his libido was shifting into hyperdrive at the proximity to a hot, aroused man. In his bed, no less.

“Or?” Cas pressed. Then he tilted his head. “Hm, it seems to be going away now.” His eyes snapped up to Dean’s, narrowed and calculating. He grabbed Dean’s hand again and put it back. Without prompting, Dean stroked his hand over the tautly muscled planes of Cas’ torso. Cas smiled slightly. “Show me what to do,” he commanded once his hardon returned full force.

He licked his lips and stopped moving his hand, but didn’t remove it. This was among Dean’s weirder sexual encounters, but for now he decided to just go with it. Cas, formerly plastic or not, knew him better than any lover he’d ever had before and so what was there to be embarrassed about?

“Ok, um, well you can take care of it yourself or...I can help.” Was this really happening?

Cas eyes got wide and then he looked down to where Dean’s hand continued to rest against his stomach. “I want you to help,” Cas said, obviously excited by the prospect. Dean’s body flooded with adrenaline, heart pounding and hands starting to shake.

After a moment, he found his voice and said, “Yeah, ok. Um, lie back on the-the bed.” Cas did as instructed and Dean helped him undo the button and zipper on his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear, which meant Dean accidentally brushed the wet tip of the guy’s cock before he was prepared. They both jumped at the contact. Dean’s erection surged forward and he reached down to press his palm to it.

“You have a hardon also.” Cas wasn’t asking. “I will help you, too.” Dean felt like he swallowed fire.

“O-ok, Cas, yeah.” He pulled Cas’ pants down so that there was no danger of scraping him with the zipper. Then Dean watched Cas’ face intently as he wrapped his hand around his straining cock.

The contact punched a noise out of Cas and his eyes, nearly black with lust, were almost comically wide now. Dean didn’t feel like laughing. Live and in person, Cas was fucking _hot_ and touching him was getting Dean very worked up.

"Do-Does it always...feel like...this?" Cas gasped out between upstrokes of Dean's hand.

Dean's smile was feral. "Nope. Sometimes it feels like _this_." He slid down in the bed, watching Cas for a reaction. Then he dipped his head and slowly closed his lips and tongue around the head of Cas' cock, sliding and licking his way down until his lips rested around the base. Cas' high pitched gasp and whine was all Dean could have hoped. He pulled back off at a maddenly slow pace, sucking as hard as he dared.

"Oh, Dean, it's _too much_ ," Cas choked out. " _Please_."

So Dean relented, using his hand on the base and his mouth on the tip. Cas, new as he was to having a flesh and blood body, was ready for an orgasm in only a few strokes. Dean could feel Cas’ balls shifting and trying to rise, so he used his free hand to massage them firmly. It sent Cas crashing over the edge, a twitching, wailing mess.

Dean was a little confused when nothing squirted onto his tongue, but he supposed if Cas couldn’t eat or sleep, it made sense he also couldn’t ejaculate. Then he realized that was probably one of the weirdest thoughts he’d ever had in his life, but he shook it off. He slid back up the bed, smiling, to stroke Cas’ back through the aftershocks.

“How was it, Cas?”

“It was...I remember now that I watched you touching yourself once. I didn't understand it at the time. Now I don’t understand why you didn’t do it more often.”

Dean grinned, then paused. “Wait...what do you mean you remember?”

“I remember every moment of our time together, Dean. From the instant you found me in that drawer, until you put me in that box. From the moment you removed me from the box until I woke up in your bed.”

“Huh. Ok. Wow. That makes it easier, doesn’t it?” Then he slapped Cas lightly on the arm. “I can’t believe you watched me yank it, you perv. I was a teenager.” Then he considered for a second and admitted, “If I’d known you were watching, I’d probably have put on a show.”

Cas frowned slightly at being chastised. “It wasn’t as though I had a choice, since you left me lying on the counter facing you. Besides,” he reminded Dean, eyes going darker again. “It might serve me well now to know what you like.”

Dean had forgotten Cas had said he would help Dean, too. When the large, warm, very much not made of plastic hand closed around him, Dean groaned. Feeling a bit hysterical, Dean laughed at the errant thought that he didn’t remember his action figure having kung-fu grip, but he sure had it now.

The pads of Cas’ fingers were smooth and soft against him. They used just the right amount of pressure and kept up almost the perfect rhythm. Apparently Cas _had_ been paying attention, either back then or earlier when Dean was doing this to him. Cas was a fast learner. Dean would keep that in mind.

He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations. He hardly noticed the shifting of the bed. He continued to lose himself in the slow stroke of that hand, until suddenly there were thick wet lips wrapping themselves around the head of his swollen cock. His hips bucked forward involuntarily, but Dean aborted the movement before he shoved his cock too far into Cas’ mouth

“Aw, fuck, Cas, that’s really good. Shit. It’s been a long time since anybody touched me. Not gonna last long, man,” he warned as his orgasm built low in his belly. When Cas tentatively reached up and tweaked a nipple, Dean was gone, crying out hoarsely and shooting what was no doubt copious amounts of spunk into Cas’ mouth.

“That has a funny taste,” Cas told him as he swallowed.

Dean couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up. He was giddy with endorphins. He dragged Cas back up the bed and kissed him as a thank you. Cas stiffened at first, but quickly caught on and started kissing back. When Dean’s tongue slid between those full lips, Dean could taste his own release, but he didn’t mind.

Cas soon figured out what to do with his tongue, too and they lay there kissing for several long, wonderful minutes. When they broke apart, Dean was smiling sleepily at Cas. He told him to roll over.

“I know you don’t sleep, Cas, but I have to. You stay here with me till I wake up, ok?” So saying, he wrapped his arm around Cas and spooned him for all he was worth. He fell asleep with a blissed-out smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean was not smiling when he woke up to pounding on his door.

“Dean! Wake up! We gotta go!”

It was John. Dean looked at the clock and saw that it was barely 8am. Why the hell would John be up this early? Not like he even had a job anymore. Then Dean’s thoughts were arrested as he remembered the night before and froze. He whipped around on the bed only to find that no one lay beside him except a tiny plastic action figure.

 _No._ It hadn’t been a dream. It couldn’t have been...could it?

“Dean! Boy, open this damn door before I break it down!” John yelled.

“I’m coming, Dad, dammit!” Worries about Cas would have to wait. “What the hell is it?” he yelled as he unlocked and yanked open the door.

“We gotta get out of here, Dean. Pack your shit, let’s go!” John turned from the door and ran to his own room.

Fuck. What the hell had John done now? He got dressed, trying to figure out whether it might have been a bar fight or if John had hustled the wrong guy at pool. He hadn’t shown any signs of a brawl, but that didn’t mean anything, if John got in all the hits. Dean hadn’t seen his hands, so he couldn’t tell if his dad had been hitting anyone.

Dean knew one thing, though. He wasn’t actually going anywhere. This time, John was on his own. Once he was dressed, he went to make coffee and sat at the table waiting on it to brew. He knew his father would be back out eventually, so he supposed he was waiting on that, too.

“What the fuck are you _doing_ , Dean?!” There he was. _Hey, Dad, how ya been_?

“I am sitting at my kitchen table, waiting for my coffee to be ready so I can drink it. Then I’m going to drink it and make myself some breakfast. Then I’ll eat my breakfast and I’ll go to work.”

“I told you, we gotta get out of here! We don’t have time for breakfast, we’ve got to leave town!”

Dean sighed, dreading the fight they were about to have, but knowing it was necessary.

“No, Dad. _You_ have to leave town. I haven’t pissed anyone off or whatever the hell it is you’ve done that means you gotta hit the road at not even 8 in the morning. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What did you just say? You’re going to _abandon_ me? After all I’ll _done_ for you? You ungrateful little - “

Dean couldn't help it. He laughed. “Are you kidding, Dad? You have got to be kidding, since there is no way you could be serious right now.”

“I’m your _father_ and you need to respect my - “

“I am 26 years old, Dad. I’m not some kid anymore that you can push around.” Dean didn’t know when he’d grown a pair, but he thought it was somewhere between Sam moving out and waking up to find Cas alive.

“You’re really not coming with me?” John asked, incredulous.

“No, Dad. I’m really not. Call me when you get where you’re going. Give me a hug if you want. Otherwise, I guess I’ll see ya around.”

After he said this, he realized his coffee was ready and he rose to get a mug from the shelf. When he looked back, John was standing in the middle of the room, as if frozen there. When he realized Dean was looking at him, he snapped out of it and grabbed Dean in a brief but firm hug. Then he picked up the bag he’d dropped and walked out without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still on board? ♥


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After what happened with Dad, Dean has to call Sam, but he ends up telling him more than he planned to. Cas gets a wardrobe change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was posting the other chapters, my busy little beta was finishing up the editing, so HURRAY! Gonna get it all up right away. Danke, mahbbys.

As Dean drank his coffee and started breakfast, the night before - or what he believed had happened the night before - all came back to him. The guilt and shame and self-loathing came quickly on the heels of the memories. Somewhere dimly heard in his mind was a voice suggesting that standing up to his father had left him feeling vulnerable, but all the negativity was drowning it out.

If all of that had really happened, then his imaginary friend, one of the best friends he ever had, had come to life. Cas had come to life, had become real, because Dean wished for it, because Dean needed a friend. And how had Dean repaid that miracle? By banging the guy within the first ten minutes of him being human.

In short, Dean felt like a piece of shit. And yeah, he acknowledged, telling his dad to leave without him was part of that. He recognized it was necessary - healthy, even - but he still felt like an asshole who was “abandoning his family”. He figured he’d better call Sam, once he’d had time to wake up and get done with his first class. That should coincide nicely with Dean’s lunch break, anyway.

It was then that Dean remembered he didn’t actually work today. Here he was, thinking that Dad waking him had at least given him a jumpstart on the day - and he was off. He sighed and finished plating his breakfast. No sense wasting good sausage and eggs, was there?

He ate a few bites and then got himself more coffee. As he forked up his eggs, he wondered if Cas going plastic again was because of what he’d done. He could think of no other reason why it had been taken away. Unless, of course, he had actually lost his mind and Cas was never real to begin with. There was always that possibility.

He finished eating and washed his dishes. At least Dad being gone meant fewer dishes, he supposed. Not that John had really been around enough that Dean would probably notice a difference. He supposed that was why the guy actually leaving wasn’t having more of an impact. Dean felt like he should’ve gone, but he wasn’t upset his dad hadn’t stayed.

Dean poured himself a third cup of coffee and then went to the bathroom, leaving his mug on the table in the hallway. He relieved himself and then hurriedly brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his hair. He was anxious to talk to Cas, even if he _was_ just a piece of plastic again. He’d become his go-to confidant again and Dean really needed one today.

He stopped outside his doorway and took a deep breath, shoulders slumping a bit. Then he turned the knob and went inside. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Cas - full grown, human Cas - lying on the bed, reading a book.

“Cas? What the - “

“Hello, Dean. I’m afraid I didn’t explain everything fully last night before we were…” He smiled shyly before continuing, “Ah, _distracted._ During this trial period, I will turn back to my plastic form whenever anyone else is present and whenever you are more than 50 feet away for longer than a few minutes. I hope it didn’t cause you too much distress,” he finished, frowning in concern.

“Wow, so...ok. Ok, good. Man, I thought…” He laughed and rubbed the nape of his neck. “I thought I was either going crazy or that I was in trouble because of, you know, the, uh, distracting I did with you.”

“In trouble? Why would you be punished for that? I seem to recall doing my fair share of distracting, too.” They both smiled slightly at that.

“Heh, yeah, you did, that’s for sure. Um, so, ok, yeah. This is good. I’m glad you’re, you know, still around.” He stopped and stared at Cas for a moment, not really sure what to say, but Cas just stared back at him. “Um, I don’t work today, which is cool, so we’ve got the whole day to talk and...whatever,” he mumbled, blushing as possibilities entered his dirty mind.

“What happened with your father, Dean?”

“Oh. He left. I don’t know what happened, but he had to take off. He wanted me to leave town, too, but...wow, man, I stood up to him.”

Dean and Cas apparently realized at the same moment that Dean had been rubbing his thumb up and down his own side as he talked.

“You know, it really is strange for you to talk to me without touching. I realize you are trying to avoid further distraction, but perhaps a hand on my ankle? It’s a nice feeling. Even more pleasant in this form.”

“Uh, sure, I can do that.” He sat on the bed and put a hand lightly on the other man, just above his closest foot.

Cas’ face slowly relaxed into a soft smile. “That’s much better. You stood up to your father? I’m very proud of you.” Then Cas scowled. “Your father is not a nice man. I don’t like him.”

If it had been anyone else, Dean might have defended John. Cas, though, he knew most of Dean’s darkest secrets. Hell, all of them up through age 16 and plenty since. Cas had a right to the opinion he held. He’d seen John at his worst and what he hadn’t actually been there for, Dean had told him about.

“Well, he’s gone now, so you don’t have to worry about it.” Dean absently ran his thumb in slow patterns across Cas’ leg.

“Have you told Sam?”

“No, he’s not up yet. I’m going to call him in a couple of hours. Wow. It’s, uh, kinda weird that you know all this stuff.”

Or at least, Dean reflected, it _should_ be weird. It actually didn't feel that weird. Even though technically he had never met the man lying on his bed before yesterday, Cas the person seemed like the same personality Dean had conjured in his head for Cas the doll all those years ago.

“I’m sure it must be a strange transition for you. It’s still rather strange for me to see you as an adult and know you are the same boy who put me in that box.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, Cas.” And he was, even though it had been the “normal” thing to do, the mature thing, to put the action figure in that box.

“Why would you apologize? Is it not customary to put away one’s toys when one becomes an adult?”

The corner of Dean’s mouth lifted in amusement. It was so funny how Cas sounded the way Dean had always heard him in his head. Except for that voice. That was unexpected. The wording of things, though. That stiff, formal odd style of speech. That’s they way Cas had always “spoken” to Dean.

“Yeah, Cas, it is. Obviously, since I took you back out and started talking to you again, though, I don’t always do what’s _customary_.”

Cas looked pleased. “No, you do not, Dean. It is one of many things I like about you.”

“You like me?” Dean was warmed by the words, even as he realized it was probably a part of the wish fulfillment. It would be kinda dumb to give him a friend who _didn’t_ like him.

“Of course. You were always a good soul. I was always especially impressed by your interactions with your brother. I was with some other children - before you - and the older boy was horrible to his sibling. And to me, as it happens.”

Dean nodded quietly. “So, hey, uh, I’ve always wondered. What character are you? Are you from a comic book or what?”

“That’s actually a very interesting story. A man wanted to surprise his lover for their anniversary by presenting him with a superhero action figure version of the lover himself. The man was not the comic book buff that his lover was so he wasn’t very good at knowing what sort of figure he wanted. Because of that there were 6 prototypes made, but 5 of us were rejected. I believe the others may have been destroyed, but my artist snuck me home for her kids to play with.”

“Oh, wow, ok. Never would have guessed that one.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, as Dean processed all the new information he’d been given since he woke up this morning. “Um, so, you want me to get you some new clothes? I was gonna ask if you wanted to get some, but if you go plastic in front of other people…”

“I do not require new clothing, but if you wish to give me some, I will enjoy wearing them. After the trial period, I will stop turning back to plastic, but for now, yes, I am afraid that is a limitation of my existence.”

“Uh, ok. Yeah, I think...I think I should get you some different ones. Especially if you think you might be really real at some point. How do we make that happen, anyway?”

“I do not know the requirements for my becoming real permanently. That is not part of the knowledge I was given.”

“Huh. All right. That’s...helpful.” Dean made a face. He supposed he’d have to just not get his hopes up about it. He was pretty good at that. “Well, I’ll just go to a thrift store. There’s one up the street from here where I’ve gotten some good stuff for cheap. Hopefully I can find you something. Gonna check your measurements real quick, ok?”

Dean had to scour the garage for the tape measure and it wasn’t going to give a strictly accurate reading, since it was the kind for measuring straight lines rather than people, but it would have to do. He faked the inseam measurement by measuring up the outside of Cas’ leg and guessing at where the top was. No way did he need to give the guy another hardon right now.

Later, maybe. The thought made heat spark through him. He quickly squelched it and got Cas’ torso measurements carefully, trying not to notice just how muscular he was under all those layers. He looked up online what sizes would fit him when it came to shirts and quickly left with a rushed goodbye. All that touching was getting him excited and he needed to go shopping without more “distraction.”

Once at the store, he grabbed several tshirts he thought would work, a couple pairs of jeans that fit the measurements, a pair of slacks, and another couple of dress shirts. He realized on his way to the counter that the dude would need underwear, but he wasn’t going to buy it here. He’d run by the local family discount store for that.

Just after he checked out he realized Cas had no other shoes, but Dean had no idea what size he might wear. He decided it would probably be cheaper to find those at the discount store, too. They usually sold shoes for ridiculously cheap. He could get a few pairs in a different sizes and take back the ones that didn’t fit.

He pulled into the lot of the discount store and took a deep breath before getting out. He had never bought underwear for another guy before. It wasn’t the ordeal that it was to buy underwear for a girl, but it was still an intimate purchase. He tried not to instill the moment with too much significance. It was a necessity, not a gesture of affection. Still, he wanted Cas to have nice underwear that would look good on him and feel good against Cas’ skin. Or against his own…

And no, that was not the thought to be having right now, as he was walking into a crowded store. He decided he’d look for shoes first. Since feet were definitely not one of his kinks, that should help him cool down. He found some very cheap pairs and he picked the 3 sizes he thought were the most likely to be right. He could donate the ones that didn’t fit.

Suitably calm now, he headed over to the men’s underwear section. He knew he himself preferred boxer briefs or nothing - today being a boxer briefs day, but he wasn’t sure what Cas’ preferences might be. In the end he got a package of satin boxers, some briefs and some boxer briefs, all in bright or dark colors.

~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time he was done and back home, he thought it was about time to call Sam and let him know about John’s going walkabout. First, though, he needed to show Cas all he had bought and then Cas could try on everything while Dean was on the phone.

Cas was on the bed reading again when Dean got back and he smiled when Dean walked into the room. Dean’s insides seemed to light up and tingle in odd places. The guy just looked so damned happy to see him. It wasn’t something he was used to feeling. His father certainly never looked that way. Sam did when they were kids and they got separated, but not in a long time. And the people he dated? Not so much. His few friends were happy to see him, he was sure, but it wasn’t something that showed on their faces.

Dean found himself returning the smile and he felt lighter than he had all morning. “Hey, dude. I got you some good stuff. Some band tshirts, couple of dress things and some good jeans. Oh and underwear and shoes. Not sure which shoes will fit, so just try them all on. If none of them fit I’ll get you some more.”

“Thank you, Dean.” For the first time since their sexual encounter, Cas removed his overcoat.

“Hey, no problem.” As he watched Cas take off his tie with a quickened pulse, he hurriedly explained, “Uh, I’m gonna go call Sammy while you try everything on. Underwear goes on first, shoes last. Shit, I forgot socks.” He grabbed some of his own from the drawer and tossed them on the bed with the rest. “Here, you can wear mine.”

With that, he left the room, telling himself he was _not_ running away - though, in fact, he was. He pulled the phone from his pocket and made it dial Sammy. It went to voicemail, but Sam immediately called him back, sounding breathless.

“Dean?  Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower. What’s up? Everything ok? You don’t usually call this early.”

“Yeah, I mean nobody’s hurt or dead or anything, just, you know, Dad packed up and left.” He had learned a long time ago not to sugarcoat things for Sam. If Dean tried to hedge or stall, the conversation would just be worse and Sam would be more upset by the end of it. So he delivered almost all bad news as bluntly as this.

“He _left_? He didn’t take you with him?”

“He tried. I, uh, refused to go.”

“You...what? Dean that’s...well, that’s great, actually.”

Sam sounded _proud_ of Dean, which was not what he’d been expecting. He’d just expected a speech about how Dad wasn’t Dean’s responsibility, really. He’d never expected Sam to sound so happy.

“You think?” Dean asked, unsure. He still felt a little guilty. “I don’t know why he had to skip out, I just told him I couldn’t go with him.”

“Wow, that is...I don’t wanna say good news, but honestly, I’m glad to hear that. I’m sorry it means you’re on your own, but, you know, maybe that’s good?” Sam was the one who sounded unsure now. He knew Dean craved social interaction.

“It’s cool, man. I’ve actually sort of got someone staying with me, as it happens.”

“Oh, really?” Sam’s tone was teasing now. “You don’t normally let your girlfriends stay past breakfast.”

“Very funny, Sam. It’s a guy. A friend.” Shit, why had he clarified that. As far as Sam knew, _all_ guys were just friends to Dean.

And leave it to brilliant Sam to pick right up on it, too. “You know some guys who are something other than friends?”

There was a speculative note to his voice that Dean didn’t like. At the same time, with Dad out of the picture, what was he hiding from?

“Not currently.” He let that hang in the air as Sam worked out just what that meant.

“Uhh…ok. That’s…yeah. Cool. Um, so how long is your friend staying?” The corners of Dean’s mouth lifted slightly at Sam’s response.

“Don’t know. Things are kinda up in the air for him and he doesn’t really know whether he’s gonna be able to stick around.”

“All right. What’s his name - do I know him?”

Dean was mildly amused by the question, but he knew he couldn’t give an honest answer. He also didn’t want to give Cas’ name, even though it was unlikely Sam would connect the dots. He wouldn’t think Cas had come to life or anything, but he might think Dean was making up his friend.

“Nope. He’s kinda new.” That was certainly true enough.

“Oh, ok. Well, I’m glad you got somebody to hang with for a while at least.”

“Yep. How’s school going?”

“It’s good, but…Dean, you’re really ok?”

“Yes, Sammy, I am really ok. Not like Dad was around for the last few months anyway. Hadn’t seen him in a week till he came in this morning.”

“Yeah, all right. School’s going good. All A’s.”

“You making friends? Going out?”

“Dean, you know I am. I’ve told you about them.”

“I know. Guess I was hoping to hear you’d met a girl or something,” Dean teased.

“You’re older than me – when are you gonna meet a girl…or _something_?” Sam’s emphasis on the last word made it clear he was referring to Dean’s earlier confession. “I want you to be happy, too, you know.”

“Haven’t met the right one yet. At least I’m out looking.” It wasn’t strictly true, but since someone had literally just shown up in his life, he figured it was a safe enough lie.

“Yeah, yeah. Call me in a couple days, ok? I miss my big bro.”

“Miss you, too. You can call me whenever, you know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas puts on a fashion show that Dean finds incredibly distracting. Later on, Sam comes to visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut followed by strong bro feels.

Dean felt better after his phone call with Sammy than he had expected, given the reason for his call. After he hung up, he went in search of Cas, to see if he’d gotten all the clothes tried on. He knocked on the door and Cas told him to come in. Dean realized he should have asked whether Cas was dressed when he knocked because the guy was standing there in nothing but socks and a pair of the satin boxers Dean had bought him.

Dean couldn’t help letting his eyes wander over Cas’ bare form. He could see those muscles he had tried to ignore earlier and they weren’t just on his shoulders. He had an athlete’s physique, toned and lithe with thick thighs and a toned but thick waist. His scrutiny did not go unnoticed, however.

“I have one more set of clothing to try on, if you are done looking at my body?” It was said without a hint of sarcasm or irony. The guy was genuinely just offering to wait until Dean had finished examining him.

“No, please, Cas. Get dressed.” His voice was so rough he had to stop to clear his throat in the middle of speaking.

“All right. Do you find my body pleasing to look at?” he asked innocently, as he drew a black tshirt over his head. It was one Dean had found that had the Led Zeppelin logo on it. Cas pulled on a pair of jeans and yeah, Dean suddenly realized the guy was just as sexy in clothes as he was three-quarters naked.

Dean’s mouth was dry and he had trouble again finding his voice. “Um, yeah, Cas. I like your body. It’s… Shit.” He wanted to say sexy or maybe just good, but instead he could only stare. Cas’ nakedness followed by the way he filled out a black t and jeans had sent much of the blood Dean used for thinking too far south for his brain to make use of it.

“Dean? Are you all right?” Cas asked, coming closer, as if that would ever help Dean.

Changing clothes had mussed the guy’s already unkempt hair into perfect bedhead. His blue eyes – even more electric now that he was human – stared into Dean’s, as if trying to read his thoughts and figure out why he was acting so strangely.

“Hardon,” he answered, using the only word he knew for sure Cas would understand for his condition. The word Dean had taught him, after Dean had caused Cas his own.

“Oh,” Cas replied, eyes widening as understanding dawned. “Because of looking at me?”

“Yeah,” Dean admitted in a near-breathless croak.

“Take off your clothes,” Cas suddenly demanded.

“What?”

“I want to see if the same thing happens to me.”

Dean didn’t argue any further. He didn’t think beyond right now, didn’t worry about what might come after, if Cas had a similar reaction – or didn’t. He just started stripping, kicking off shoes first, then yanking off socks and peeling out of shirt and jeans, as Cas did the same. Before he even had his jeans off, they had their answer. Once his shirt was over his head, Cas had gasped and let out a little noise in the back of his throat.

“You like what you see, Cas?” he asked as he stepped out of his jeans, leaving them both in nothing but boxers.

“Yes, Dean,” he whispered. “I like it very much.”

“Can I kiss you now?” Dean requested, walking forward as he spoke.

“I would find that most enjoyable.”

Without further words, Dean closed the space between them. He felt a soft burst of air as Cas exhaled against his mouth and then their lips were touching. For a moment, there was only that small sensation of suction, lip to lip, that impression of softness and caress. For a full minute, Dean was loathe to break the contact or even change it to something deeper. It was too precious, too perfect and he wanted to keep it.

Dean had slept around for years, one night stand after one night stand. Sometimes with strippers, sometimes with school teachers, always pretending - and boasting to his unimpressed little brother - that those lays were hot, that the bendier and dirtier the sex was, the better it was. In truth, what Dean was searching for, with every single conquest, was just touch.

He’d stopped receiving physical affection, aside from the occasional slap on the shoulder or loose hug, when he was 4 years old. He had been born into a world of soft tender touches, of love expressed partly through physical contact - the slide of fingers through hair, the press of lips to forehead, the brush of palm against back. Then one night that had been taken from his life. He’d been seeking it ever since.

Now, finally, here with Cas was the kind of touch he had longed for. There was no need to rush or hide himself because Cas knew him, Cas wasn’t going anywhere. Cas would curl up next to him when it was over and _touch some more._ Dean, for the first time since he was a teenager, let himself enjoy the moment. Taking - and giving - all the touch he wanted.

Cas, apparently, wanted more touch. He pressed closer, tighter, filling Dean’s nose with the scent of laundry detergent, that strange suntan oil smell that had always surrounded Cas the doll and another scent that Dean couldn’t name. Cas parted his lips in silent invitation and Dean accepted, easing his tongue inside gently, in no hurry, still wanting to savor.

No doubt expecting the frantic, race to the finish coupling of the night before, Cas tried to go faster. Dean kept his movements slow and deliberate, not matching Cas’ attempted pace. He swept his tongue languidly up one side of Cas’ own, then down the other. He crooked the tip of it behind Cas’ front teeth, against the roof of his mouth. Cas squirmed and whined at the tingly tickle that the movement no doubt caused. Dean smiled without breaking the kiss.

Cas stopped trying to speed up and just followed Dean’s lead. When Dean was sure he was on board with the pace, he pulled out of the kiss to look into Cas’ eyes. He lightly rubbed his hands up and down Cas’ sides, occasionally pausing to knead the top of his ass. Cas used his own hands in a similar fashion, only roaming, equally slowly, over Dean’s chest and shoulders instead of his sides.

“This is different from before,” Cas whispered.

Dean, ever afraid of doing the wrong thing, told him, “We can do it the other way, if you want.”

“No,” Cas answered, lips curling and eyes crinkling. “I like this better.”

Dean dipped his head and kissed Cas again, deep and slow. Cas kissed back the same way. Tongues stretching to full length to caress each other. Hands and fingers continued their mapping of bare skin. As they kissed and caressed, Dean walked Cas backward toward the bed. He pressed him back until Cas was lying down.

Dean crawled up and lay just to the side of Cas, his erection rubbing against Cas’ hip just slightly. He bent his lips down to the pulse point beneath Cas’ ear and kissed. Then he nipped and licked the ear itself before licking a long stripe down Cas’ neck. He got up on his knees so that he could use both hands and his mouth. He nibbled at Cas’ neck and shoulder while one hand skimmed along Cas’ body. His other hand went down to just graze over the cock straining against Cas’ satin boxers.

Cas gasped and then moaned, raising his hips slightly to chase the movement. Dean pressed down more firmly for a moment before moving away. He then proceeded to ignore Cas’ cock - and his own - completely for several minutes, while he explored every exposed inch of Cas’ upper body with his hands and mouth.

Then he moved on to Cas’ legs, allowing his cock and balls to drag against the other man’s thigh and shin slightly as he moved, occasionally brushing Cas’ cock with some part of his body that was not his hand or mouth. Sometimes an arm, once or twice a cheek.

Cas was making lots of noises that thrilled Dean. Little whimpers and sighs and tiny moans that were driving him crazy. Dean continued his body worship. He teased an inner thigh with his tongue and teeth, not relenting until Cas’ let out a broken, “Dean, _please_ , I need more…” as he writhed around under the maddening touches.

Dean obligingly removed Cas’ underwear at last. Cas let out a soft sighing moan as the satin slid over his burning manhood. Dean felt a sudden urge to feel that whisper of cool fabric against his own cock. He pulled his cock through the opening of his boxer briefs as he bent down to press his lips where hip met thigh, sucking lightly as Cas’ cock pressed hot against his cheek.

He rutted against the ball of satin in his hand for a moment, relishing the one-of-a-kind sensation, before tossing the underwear aside and doffing his own. His nuzzled Cas’ cock with his face, inhaling the scent of him. He left a kiss as soft as a breath against the twitching, wrinkled skin beneath. He followed it up with a flick of his tongue, then sucked the ball into his mouth.

Cas let out a high pitched moan and reached down to stroke Dean’s hair. Dean slid a hand up Cas’ side as Dean’s mouth worked over his pelvis, everywhere except Cas’ cock. Cas reached down and grasped Dean’s hand in his, as if needing to hold on. Dean twined their fingers and squeezed reassuringly, looking up at Cas through shuttered lashes.

Maintaining the eye contact, he licked his lips and then flicked his tongue out to lick the tip of Cas’ cock. His tongue snaked out again and swirled around the head gently, before his lips closed around it. He closed his eyes and drew Cas in slowly, luxuriating in the feel of it, hot and heavy on his tongue, stretching his mouth wide.

He pulled off and licked his lips again, then rolled them under, sliding as far down as he could before friction stalled his mouth. He pulled back off with steady suction all the way to the tip, then licked Cas’ cock all over, sedately. Despite his unhurried pace, the sounds he was drawing from Cas forced him to take his own cock in hand, stroking a few times just to ease the pressure.

He sucked Cas’ cock lazily for a few minutes, enjoying the raw, ragged pleas and cries the man let out. When he decided that he had enjoyed the feel of Cas in his mouth enough, he slid up the other man’s body, kissing Cas deeply and grinding their erections together. Cas gently bucked upward to meet him and before long they were both panting, even as leisurely as the rhythm was.

Frottage was not Dean’s favorite, but he didn’t think he could wait - or that Cas was ready - for anal sex tonight. He debated his options. They could just give each other handjobs again. He could continue the blowjob and hope Cas returned the favor. Instead of either, though, he thought maybe a little thigh fucking would be just the thing, perfect for introducing Cas to the idea of penetration later on.

Dean reached over to the bedside drawer and grabbed his bottle of lube, then pressed Cas’ knees up to his chest. He drizzled the cold gel over Cas’ inner thighs, mostly to hear the hiss of surprise. He grinned and kissed the frown off Cas’ face. Then he pressed Cas’ thighs together and slid his cock between them, stroking over Cas’ own cock and balls lightly at first, then with more pressure.

He leaned down, arm on either side of Cas’ thighs to hold them in place and kissed Cas again. He continued to kiss him for a few minutes as he kept up an easy pace. Then he backed out of the kiss so that he could look Cas in the eye. If the myriad ways he found to say Dean’s name after that were an indicator, Cas found their current position even more enjoyable than he had the blowjob.

“Dean, I...oh. _Oh_. Ohh, Dean, yes, more _please_. Faster! Press down a little bit - ahh, yes, that’s - Dean!” Watching Cas’ eyes go wide as his orgasm burst from him sent Dean spiraling into his own, thighs twitching and shaking as he also spilled onto Cas’ stomach.

Cas’ legs jerked and he cried out as Dean helped him lower them. His breath was coming in shallow little hiccups. Dean used his discarded boxer briefs to clean Cas up and then gathered the man to him, top of his head fitted just under Dean’s chin. Dean pressed a kiss to it, then stroked down his back.

“That good for you, Cas? Did you like it?”

“Dean, I do not feel that is a strong enough word for what I felt.”

Dean chuckled lightly. “Yeah, Cas. Tell me about it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks passed quickly. On days Dean worked, Cas talked to him while he made and ate his breakfast. On days he didn’t, they spent lazy mornings in bed. On all days, they spent their free time talking, watching television and discovering Cas’ interests - both in and out of bed. Dean discovered some new interests of his own, too, most of them of the sexual variety, but not all.

Sam called a few times, and every time Dean told him Cas was still there, he pressed a little bit harder about whether Cas was really just a friend. In the end, Dean had told him his name and Sam had just laughed.

“Dude, you remember that little action figure you used to have? Wasn’t his name Cas, too?”

“Huh, you know, I think you’re right.”

Finally, around the 4th or 5th time Sam asked, Dean admitted they were becoming more than friends. He didn’t scar his little brother with the information that they’d been banging each other’s brains out since day one, but he implied that there might be feelings developing. It was definitely the case on his end. He hoped it was on Cas’.

“I’m gonna have to check him out, you know. I get vacation in a few weeks, so…”

“Yeah, I still don’t know if he’s gonna be around then. His job, you know?”

Sam hadn’t been happy, but he hadn’t pushed. It was still a couple of weeks away. What Dean hoped was that Cas was fully real by then. He really wanted Sammy to meet him. He’d never introduced Sam to anyone he had dated before. Not that what he and Cas were doing was strictly dating, but the principle was the same. They were romantically involved.

Whenever Dean was busy with other things, Cas would read. They never seemed to run out of things to talk about, even though they spent most of their time together. Dean assumed that would pass eventually, but for now it was great. He loved listening to Cas think out loud about the mysteries of the universe. He was smart, but more than that, he was curious about everything.

Dean hadn’t had a best friend outside of his brother since he was a kid - and even then it had been Cas. Back then, though, all their conversations had been one-sided, for all that Dean had filled in Cas’ part most of the time. He’d spent all these years talking to Cas and it was so nice that Cas could finally talk back. Dean had never had this kind of intimacy with another person in his life.

And, while it wasn’t the most important thing for once, Dean couldn’t deny that the sex was absolutely off the charts. Whether they went fast or slow, kinky or romantic, it was always, always phenomenal. And when it was over, Dean didn’t feel empty and no one had to leave.

He didn’t know exactly what he and Cas were. Hell, he didn’t even know how long the guy was gonna be sticking around, since he might go plastic at any time. All Dean knew was that he was feeling something strong for the guy and it wasn’t friendship or lust.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t until Sam was actually there, and Cas wasn’t, that Dean realized how deep those feelings ran. Dean still didn’t know how to turn Cas real for good and he didn’t even know how long he had to do it in. So when Sam had said he was coming for a visit, Dean had to tell him Cas would be out of town.

Sam’s first morning there, they were having breakfast. Dean was staring into his coffee cup, wishing Cas was next to him reading a book, like most mornings. He wanted Sam to meet him. He wanted Cas and Sam to bond over books. He wanted his brother and his...boyfriend? Was Cas his boyfriend? To bond over teasing him. Most of all, he just wanted Cas, with him, right there and then.

“Dean, you ok? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said in like 10 minutes.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. You’re right. It’s just…” He stared at his brother for a while, trying to decide if he wanted to say anything or leave it alone till he knew that Cas was gonna be real for good. He couldn’t hold it in, though. “I miss Cas, Sammy. And yes, dude, I know what a big deal me saying that is, so let’s not make a thing of it.”

Sam looked completely dumbfounded. “Wow, Dean. I won’t make a big deal, I just think that’s great, man. You deserve something good, you know. I’m happy for you. Sorry he’s not here. I really wanna meet him.”

“I really _want_ you to meet him. Weird, right?” he asked with a smile.

Sam laughed out loud. “I think you mean awesome, dude. Look, when he gets back, take some time off work and fly out to see me. I’ve got a friend who can get you cheap tickets, ok? Promise me.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, Sam. I might just do that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? ♥


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes plans to tell Cas how he feels.  
> When the deadline finally comes, neither of them is any closer to knowing how to make Cas real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The last, most painful chapter. My beta yelled at me, asking how I could make a story about a doll coming to life and having sex with a guy into an angst-filled pain fest. I told her that it was a gift. ~~Sorrynotsorry~~

About a week after Sam left, Dean decided he was going to tell Cas how he felt. He still didn’t know how to make it so Cas could stay, but he thought surely that was a good start. He waited until after he’d eaten - and Cas had watched him eat - then he asked Cas to come sit on the couch with him.

On the way into the living room, Cas started telling him a story about bees. Dean listened with a dawning realization that Cas was incredibly smart. He may have started out as a hunk of plastic, but he had a thirst for knowledge that never stopped. Dean considered that, as Cas continued talking about colony collapse and other things Dean had only the vaguest understanding of.

One day, Dean realized, Cas was going to outgrow him. Dean wasn’t smart. Sam and Cas, they were both brilliant. Dean was just...Dean. How could that ever be enough for Cas? Cas was funny, too. Not the kind of brash, in your face humor Dean used. Cas had a dry wit that came out of nowhere and left Dean in stitches. He’d grow tired of Dean’s sophomoric rejoinders eventually.

Then what? The guy would be real and he could go off into the world and he would leave. The best friend Dean would ever have would leave him to find something better. He would take everything Dean had taught him about sex and etiquette and life and he would use that knowledge with someone else. Someone better than Dean.

Knowing this, Dean couldn’t bear to tell Cas the truth. It would only make Cas feel bad when it came time for him to leave. Everyone left him, it wasn’t like that was new. No reason to make it hard for Cas to go by telling him Dean’s stupid feelings. Just look at all the bad things that had come down on Dean in his life. There had to be a reason, right? Dean was no good and he knew it.

When Cas finished talking about the bees, Dean asked him if he knew anything more about how to turn himself human. It wasn’t hard to pretend Dean was interested in the answer, because he did desperately want to know - even though he knew now he would never get to keep Cas, anyway.

“I still do not know the conditions of real, Dean, but now I know that we have a week to figure it out. Otherwise, I will revert to my plastic form.”

“What? A week?”

“Yes. I was given that information just before you asked me. Strange.”

“How do you get the information, anyway?” He managed to make his voice sound conversational, even though inside he was panicking. He really, really didn’t want Cas to go back to plastic.

“It just appears in my mind. Like a thought, but...stronger? It is hard to explain.”

“Ok, well, I know they haven’t told you, but do you have any ideas for how to keep you human?”

“No, Dean. I only know I very much want to be human. I so enjoy our talks and our time together. I want to be able to taste your food and go for a ride in your car and feel sunshine on my skin.”

“We’re gonna make it happen, ok, Cas? Don’t worry. I’ll find a way. We’ll find it together.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean?” Cas called from the other room as Dean finished putting away the breakfast dishes. He wouldn’t allow Cas to help him this time, since it might be Cas’ last week. He really hoped not, but just in case, he wanted it to be the best it could be.

“What’s up, Cas?” Dean asked as he walked through the door.

“I just really wanted you to know how much I have enjoyed getting to be your friend. Not just as a sort of human, but before, when I was just an action figure. You have always treated me with kindness and respect.”

“You kidding, Cas? You’re the best, man! You’re...you’re my best friend.” Dean gave a little half smile.

He really wasn’t good at talking about feelings, but he was even less so when he was trying to hide his true ones. What they needed, he decided, was distraction. He thought of something that had the added benefit of fulfilling one of Cas’ wishes about being human.

“Hey, I got an idea. Let me see if I can find you some shorts that fit. Gonna take you out somewhere where there’s no people and you can walk in the sun. How’s that sound?”

“That sounds wonderful, Dean. I’d like that very much.” Dean could only grin at the excitement in Cas’ eyes.

They got dressed and then Dean drove them out to a backroad with hardly any houses, no traffic and lots of scenery. Cas had gone plastic as soon as Dean had opened the front door. Once they got 500 feet from the nearest person, though, Cas nearly gave Dean a heart attack by coming to life again.

“It is very beautiful here, Dean,” Cas told him as he appeared.

Dean swore and jerked in his seat, but kept the wheel more or less steady. When his heart rate had calmed enough for him to speak, he agreed. “Yeah, man, it really is.” He looked at Cas, staring out the windshield and thought he was beautiful, too, but he didn’t say it.

When they got to the secluded little nature trail and parked, Dean led them down the path to a sunny field. He took Cas’ hand and left the trail, till they were walking through wild flowers and pale grass. He’d grabbed a blanket out of the trunk and now he laid it out in the middle of the field in full sun.

He sat down, then stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. He leaned back on his elbows and stared at Cas while he sat, too. Cas mimicked Dean’s position, except he kept his legs straight and he let his head fall back. He was obviously reveling in the sensation of sun on his face. He was gorgeous like that and Dean wanted to live in the moment forever.

He took out his phone and snapped a picture. Cas’ head came up and looked at Dean and he smiled, so Dean snapped another. At least he would have these when Cas was gone. He smiled back, sad but full of love for this amazing person in front of him. He reached over and took Cas’ hand in his and tilted his own head back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the 7th day, they were no closer to knowing how to make Cas human for real. All they did know was, “I will either revert to my doll form or become human at 5pm today.”

Dean was frantic, trying to come up with ideas for how to keep Cas human. Cas had said so many things over the past week that had made Dean desperately want to tell him how he felt. He’d barely managed to keep it to himself. Cas kept complimenting him and telling him how happy Dean had made him.

Instead of saying the words he so desperately longed to say, he told Cas similar things. About how happy Cas made him, how great he thought Cas was. He did finally admit that he thought Cas was beautiful and the smile Cas had given him had been the most beautiful thing Dean thought he had ever seen, with the possible exception of his mother’s face.

Finally, with not even a half an hour to spare, Dean decided that sharing his feelings was the one thing he hadn’t tried. It would be harder when Cas left him - either way - if Dean told him, but he wanted Cas to get a chance to be human for real. So he led Cas by the hand to the bed and had him sit next to him.

“Cas, I realized a while ago that...you’re more than just a best friend to me, Cas. These past few weeks have been the best of my life. I’ve…” He choked over the words and had to start again. “I’ve fallen in love with you.” He laughed as tears filled his eyes. “I know I don’t deserve you, and I know once you become human you’re eventually gonna see that, but I love you so much, Cas, and I’m so lucky you’ve been in my life.”

“ _Dean_. How can you say you don’t deserve me? How can you think that I would ever, ever leave you? You are my home. I love you, too. You must know that.”

Dean’s breath hitched in his chest. “I know you think you do, Cas. And I appreciate you saying it, more than you’re ever gonna know. But one day, you’re gonna outgrow me. You’re so smart and funny and...it’s ok, though, Cas. It really is. I’ve made peace with it.” He tried to smile, but it felt so wrong on his face and just caught his tears when they fell, causing a salty taste on his lips.

“Dean, I - something’s wrong. I feel like I do when you leave and I start changing form. I don’t…” He looked down at his hand as the skin turned smooth and shiny. His eyes were terrified as he looked back at Dean. “I don’t want to go, Dean.”

“No, Cas, you can’t. How do we make it stop?” Dean’s voice was several octaves higher than normal. He was frantic. “ _Tell me how to make it stop!_ ”

But Cas just looked sad and frightened. He gasped out another “I love you!” Then all of his skin took on the same shine as his hand.

“Cas?” He didn’t answer. “ _Cas!_ I love you! Please don’t go plastic ag - NO! Nononono, Cas!” Within seconds, Cas the man was no more and only Cas the doll remained. Dean felt hollowed out inside. He had no idea what the rules had been for keeping Cas alive, but he had failed.

His first thought was, _Of course I did. I always fail_. Then he thought of all the things he had tried in order to get Cas to be able to stay. It wasn’t like he’d been given an instruction manual. He thought about how many of the things that had gone wrong in his life were totally beyond his control like that. Dad leaving, Mom dying, Dean flunking in school because they moved every 12 minutes. Then he thought about how Sam had made it to Stanford because Dean had made sure of it.

“No, you know what? Fuck that!” he yelled at the ceiling of the empty room. “I didn’t fail. Fuck that! I did everything I could do! My whole life, no matter what kind of shit was being thrown at me, I did my fucking best! I took care of myself when Dad couldn’t, and I took care of Sammy, too - and look how he turned out!”

He whirled around the room, eyes skyward, as if he could see whatever power had brought Cas to life and taken him away again.

“I don’t deserve all the bad shit that’s happened to me. That’s life, bad shit happens, I get that, I’m not saying ‘Why me?’ I’m saying I didn’t _earn_ it! You hear me?”

His anger went out of him then, as he realized again that Cas was just a toy. He couldn’t even bear to look at the bed. “But, look, whatever you think I did wrong, you need to tell me and _I will fix it._ Whatever it takes, if it means I get Cas back, I’ll do it. I did my best, I really did, but if it wasn’t good enough, please just let me fix it.”

He couldn’t help the tears that burned his eyes and then his cheeks. He dropped his face into his hands as no answer came. He sat there, crying, in the middle of his room, feeling utterly defeated. His best friend, the love of his life, was gone. Dean had no idea how to get him back - or even why he’d gotten to have him in the first place. He just knew that he was heartbroken.

When the hand fell on his shoulder, he didn’t react at first. Then he heard his name, spoken in soft gravel and he spun around as he stood up, nearly knocking them both off balance.

“Cas, I - what - how - “ He stopped, swallowed, tried again. “What do I need to do to keep you? Do you know? I’ll do it. I’ll - “

Cas smiled at him, the biggest one Dean had seen from him. “There’s nothing to be done, Dean. You’ve already done it. The secret was accepting your own worth. I’m here now. For good. I’m...I’m real.”

The amazing smile got even wider, even happier and Dean felt his own face start to ache with answering it. He didn’t care at all.

“You’re real? You’re here for good?” Cas nodded to both questions. Dean kissed him soundly, then pulled him in for a fierce hug. “I love you, Cas. You’re my best friend and just...the best dude I know.”

“I love you, too, Dean.” Just then Cas’ stomach made loud gurgling sound, shocking Cas and making Dean laugh.

“Guess that answers the question of whether you eat now. Come on, let’s get some breakfast. Gonna take you out in public today, I think. Have breakfast at the diner.” Dean held up a warning finger. “I don’t do PDA’s pal. No kissing or butt grabbing when people can see.” Cas just nodded, still looking stunned, over his hunger or Dean’s words, Dean wasn’t sure. Dean took his hand. “But holding hands on the way to our table and, you know, maybe across the table? That would be ok.” He gave his new boyfriend a small, lopsided smile, full of teary-eyed happiness.

Cas’ eyes softened and his smile returned. “Shall we go? I’m happy to be riding in your car again. It is a very impressive machine. I like it very much.”

Dean grinned. “Best dude I know!” he declared again, dragging Cas out the door by their joined hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for playing in my weird little mind, children! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Go on. Tell me what a freak I am. ~~Of course, if you got this far, that means you actually _read_ this weirdness, so, you know...no judgment, just saying~~. xD  
>  ♥


End file.
